


Fire, Given Breath of Life

by sere727



Category: Spartacus Series (TV), Spartacus: Vengeance, Spartacus: War of the Damned
Genre: Comfort, Complete, Fix-It, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-24
Updated: 2013-04-24
Packaged: 2017-12-09 10:09:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/773005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sere727/pseuds/sere727
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nasir had a life before becoming body slave to the Dominus, that life may be the salvation of the Rebel army.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this story before the Spartacus War of the Damned so it is based off of Vengeance and there really aren’t any spoilers, though there are some slight similarities. Also this was supposed to be a fix-it/comfort fi when the show's end destroyed me.I never thought that my OTP could ever possibly survive the most bloody and deadly t.v. show I have ever seen (SPOILER) but they did! But this story was almost complete before the finale so I thought I would go ahead and finish it. I hope you guys like it, this just bit me and wouldn’t let go.

_He was running, the city burning around him; there was so much screaming and he couldn’t find him. He kept crying out, begging to be heard; for someone to help him. His prayers were answered; firm hands picked him up, holding him high above the crowd, he relaxed. Though he could not see the man’s face he knew he was safe, this man would help him back to his family._

_Suddenly they were in front of the port. But this wasn’t right his family wasn’t here, and these ships belonged to the men who had burned his home. He began to fight; struggling to get down from the now suffocating hold, but it was no use the man was far too strong. He wouldn’t give up though, he began screaming and thrashing harder, throwing his body to and fro trying to escape, but the man was handing him over to the evil men. The demons who had laid waste to his home pulled him on board their ship, cold shackles placed about his wrist and ankles; he thought after the inferno that was his city had licked his skin the chill of the metal would offer relief. However it seemed that with the click of the closures the chill reached down into his very soul, quelling the fire that burned within his chest. He tried so hard to fight, to not let it extinguish. The boat began to sway tears trailing down his cheeks. Harsh hands set upon him, shaking him; muffled words that could not seem to make it through the intense cold that gripped him._

Then he felt lips upon his forehead, his cheeks, the hands had softened and were gently cupping his cheeks. A soft voice reaching out, acting as beacon trying to bring him into the light. He moved ever closer, and suddenly the memories seemed so very distance. The fire he feared lost returning; filling him to the very edges of his body. He no longer felt the roughness of wooden planks, but rather the softness of sheets flowing over his body. Finally he could understand words whispered softly in his ear, they slipped through the cracks in his heart, warming him from within. He opened his eyes, the glow cast against the walls of the tent a familiar sight, the heavy weight that covered him a comforting balm to wounded soul.

“Are you back with me in the land of the living, Nasir?” The words were whispered softly in his ear. As answer he loosened the death grip he had laid on the sheets and brought his hands up to glide along Agron’s back, the feel of his lover’s skin grounding him.

“Does same vision haunt you this night?”

Nasir simply nodded, trying to bury his head deeper into the crook of Agron’s shoulder. Agron would not allow this and lifted himself up so that he could look more clearly upon his lover’s face. It saddened him to see the drying tracks left by the tears he had shed in the grip of his nightmare.

Nasir forced his gaze up, meeting gentle green eyes his body finally seemed to fully relax and a deep sigh escaped him. “ I feel the fire upon my skin, the swaying of the sea below my feet and the screaming… it sets ears to ringing.” Nasir shuddered as he played the vision back in his head.

“I fear the time you have spent with Kalil has brought on this plague of nightmares.” Agron voice took on a harsh tone at the mention of one of the newest recruits to the rebel camp.

Nasir gave Agron a harsh look in return, not wishing to relive earlier quarrel. “He tells me of my people, of the traditions and heritages I have long forgotten; he attempts to give back some of what the Roman shits have stolen.”

Agron sighed, bringing his head to rest gently against Nasir’s forehead, “I know of it’s importance to you, little man. I just wish that it did not come at the cost of dark remembrances.”

Nasir softened at Agron’s quiet confession, he leaned up only slightly leaving the gentle impression of his lips upon Agron’s, “I know but there is still more I would learn. I know that my brother’s name is the one I cry out for, I wish so desperately to remember.” Nasir bumped his forehead against Agron’s nudging him to meet his eyes, to convey his seriousness. “If I could but remember lost knowledge it would be well worth the pain of past suffering.”

Agron saw how deeply Nasir wanted to continue this and simply nodded, knowing he could deny him nothing he simply resolved himself to be there to wake him from forgotten horror.

The sun rises, slowly creeping through the slim opening in their tent; they lay together Nasir whispering all that he can remember from the dream. Agron holding him tight as he begins to shake; it is only here that they allow themselves such vulnerability. Soon they will both rise from their bed and walk out to face a new day, and Nasir will be the fierce and wild warrior he has grown into since his time as body slave, but for just this little while he sheds his armor and seeks comfort in Agron’s arms .

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

 

The whoosh of the spear through the air was having a calming effect on Nasir, the familiar weight as he thrust and parried against an invisible enemy helping to quiet troubled thoughts. After he and Agron had parted ways this morning his minds had once again begun to spin. Since he could not still it, he sought instead to give it new focus.

 He had always dreamed of him, well at least he liked to think it was his brother of whom he dreamed. When he was but a boy every night he would dream of running through fields, laughing as he tried to catch the ever disappearing image of another boy. For as long as he can remember this was all Nasir had of his past, all that was left once he was sold on the auction block. For so many years it had not mattered, it was a life better left buried. But since he had been freed the desire to remember had become overwhelming. He had shed the skin of Tiberius and now wished to once more reclaim the memories of Nasir.

Much of the returning memories are due to the conversations that Nasir has had with Kalil; one of the latest recruits to their cause and one of the few Syrians that Nasir has met since his time under Roman heel.

They had recently attacked another caravan of slaves who were being transported for auction, and among them they had found a group of recently captured Syrians. Nasir had been so enthralled to meet others of his country. However this soon gave way to embarrassment when he showed himself to be truly ignorant of the ways of his own people. But Kalil had taken this as a challenge and set about teaching him all he could about his people. He had asked him questions about what he could remember, had told him stories of what Syria was like before the Roman’s invaded. He had begun to teach Nasir how to once again speak in the tongue of his people, and with but a nudge it was quickly returning to him.

It had also been the catalyst that had seen nightmare to invade sleep this past night. Nasir did not know how much longer it would take, but he wished so desperately for his brother’s name.

 When this was all over and they were truly free of the shackles of Rome his greatest wish was to return to Syria and discover the fate of his family. He had not yet spoken of his desire to Agron, though he believed his lover already knew of his wish. So until such a time as the journey was possible he would learn all he could of his people’s language and their culture, and attempt to wrest from the depths of his mind recollection of his family.

“Ahh there is the great and wild dog,” the boisterous voice boomed across the campsites. Nasir turned, temporarily shaken from his thoughts, a wide grin splitting his face at the approach of his friend. Many quickly removed themselves from Kalil’s path, he was a man of great size, and his body bore many scars; testament to his status as warrior. His hair long and unkempt, a wild beard covering his face as ink swirled upon his bronze arms.

“Kalil, as always I see you are slow to rise.” Nasir reached out, grasping Kalil’s forearm. Khalil simply pulled him forward lifting him high in a bone-crushing hug that left Nasir laughing.

“And why should I not brother, when I have such soft company warming my bed?” Kalil answered as he all but dropped Nasir back to the earth. “I would have thought you would also have remained abed but a while longer,” Kalil lifting a lecherous eyebrow. “Though your company is not as soft as mine, I would believe it to be just as pleasurable.”

Nasir tried desperately not to blush; used to far cruder discussion, but he could not quite control his reaction. Though his embarrassment was cooled at the reminder as to why he had not woke up in a more pleasurable fashion.

“I am afraid this morn that dark dreams woke me from slumber far too early and with it passion cooled.”

Kalil’s smile dimmed, “You are beset by visions once again?”

“It was the attack of the Romans and my journey across the sea as a slave.” Nasir answered his expression darkening as he looked to the horizon.

“What else do you remember,” Kalil asked, an eagerness invading his expression before he quickly suppressed it.

Nasir focused his eyes back on the present, “Not much more than before, I remember the burning of the city and there was a man who carried me to the ship,” Nasir shook his head in frustration. “But there was not much else before I woke.”

Frustration creased Kalil’s face before he once again banished it, “Do not worry, I will keep teaching and we will see memories continue to grow.” Kalil stepped back and drew his sword. “Come let us spar and I will teach more of the fighting style of our people.”

Nasir smirked and took a firm grip on the shaft of his spear, setting foot to purpose he and Kalil began to fight. There movements quick and deadly, Kalil yelling out the Syrian names for the attacks.

Hope rose in Nasir’s chest as the words sunk into his skin, there was a familiarity to it all; perhaps it would not be much longer before his memories returned.

***

He had heard the joyous cries as the men returned from another successful raid; he had just finished delivering a message for Spartacus and now was making his way back toward Spartacus’ tent. He knew that Agron would be there now giving his report.

It had been almost a week since he had last seen his lover and he was anxious to make sure he was whole and unharmed, as well make up for long and lonely nights.

As he came within view of Spartacus’ tent he felt the tight ball of tension that had taken up residence in his chest after Agron had left beginning to loosen, and an easy smile making its way across his face.

He could see his lover standing just inside the tent, his hands moving across the map spread out in front of him as he gave report. Nasir stayed back waiting impatiently, practically vibrating in place, he hated when Spartacus sent Agron out and he could not be at his side. Of course he trusted Agron to be able to take care of himself, but it still gave great comfort to know that Nasir was the one at his back, protecting him.

Though Nasir had not been idle in Agron’s absence, he had sought Kalil out to better occupy raging thought and channel unending worry. They had begun training every morning and he had been teaching Nasir fighting maneuvers that had made even the former gladiators envious. Crixus and Gannicus had even begun to attend the morning session, mimicking Kalil’s movements. Nasir had even watched as every morning Kalil and Spartacus would spar, the fights a brutal sight. Spartacus and Kalil seemed to form a tight relationship, Nasir believed it was because Kalil demanded nothing from him and instead stood as a way to find relief from his many burdens.

The three other Syrians who had been freed along with Kalil had remained on the outskirts of it all, they did not mingle among the rebels. Nasir was the only one to whom they would deign to show a modicum of attention or respect. Joining in the training session only when Nasir was involved, and refusing to speak in anything but the Syrian tongue.

Tahir was the youngest of the group and had a quiet nature; he was slight of build, but had a wiry sort of strength. Standing but a few inches taller than Nasir, he used this to his advantage in battle. He had brought down Donar as easily as if he was a new recruit to the ludus, using his own size and strength against him. Then there was Laith a giant among men; dwarfing even Agron, he was a fierce looking warrior. Speaking few words he favored the axe as a weapon, its size that of a small tree trunk.

Finally the last was Aaquil, the eldest of them all; his face was so badly scarred as to have the children of the camp label him monster and told stories of his rise from the underworld. This belief was spurred on by the sight of his ferocity on the battlefield. But Nasir thought of him as father long lost; the wisdom of his counsel had been a great comfort.

Nasir, when his time was not being spent on overseeing the camp could be found among the Syrians. He had greatly improved in his speech and coupled with this and discussions of Syria the memories of his homeland were becoming a far more common occurrence in his dreams. Though frustratingly enough it was nothing but blurry images of faces, and long forgotten words whispered into child’s ear.

Nasir is drawn from his thoughts as he feels Agron’s hand cup the back of his neck, and is pulled around to meet crashing lips. The length of time they have gone without seeing each other coupled with the edge of fear and danger that accompanies these separations, lends a fierceness to Agron’s embrace that will take time and reassurance to gentle. But for now Nasir reaches up with both hands grabbing Agron’s face and returning the kiss with his own ferocity.

“I would have thought your tent would serve your purpose of pleasure better, but I should not be surprised that a shit like you would prefer to be put on display.” Crixius gave a parting shot, a shit-eating grin upon his face as he departed Spartacus’ tent.

Agron pulled away from the kiss with bared teeth, “Fucking Gaul” he hissed out. He words were laced with amusement, a great change from a year ago when they would have been filled with nothing but venom. But Nasir would have none of this and instead reached up and grabbed a handful of hair forcing Agron’s gaze back on him.

“I would prefer you fucked me, “Nasir whispered softly as he eyes gleamed brightly in the light of the dying sun.

The breath seemed to leave Agron’s body in a hiss, “That can be arranged little man.” He dove in for one more deep searching kiss and then pulled away and set off toward the direction of their tent and a long sought for bed. It was good that Spartacus had forced them to set up their tent a fair distance away from most in the camp, they were both known to be very…vocal during their time together.

***

Nasir woke as he felt a hand carding itself through his hair; his eyes coming to rest on the twinkling green of Agron’s. He reached out, running his fingers through newly grown stubble, Agron playfully capturing one of his fingers between his teeth nipping the ends.

“And you call me wild little dog,” Nasir teased gently. “They have but to gaze upon my body and see the true evidence of marks left by overzealous teeth.”

Agron leaned forward nipping the edge of Nasir’s chin in retaliation, “They will never know; any who would dare to look upon you would soon find sight robbed by sword’s sharp edge.”

Nasir shook his head a deep satisfaction settling into his bones as he was able to lay within the strength of his lover. He slid forward resting his head on Agron’s chest, Agron bringing his arms around clutching Nasir tightly. They lay there quietly for a few moments, the distant bustling of the slowly awakening encampment a gentle lull to the senses. But as usual Agron could not remain still for long and Nasir felt him stir, he was dislodged momentarily as Agron leaned over the side of their raised pallet. Hands reached out seizing a small pouch Nasir had not noticed in night’s passion; Agron then righted himself and once more allowed Nasir to settle back into place.

“A gift Nasir, I saw it among one of the Roman’s things and thought of you.”

Nasir looked suspiciously through his lashes at Agron before reaching out to take the offered pouch. He unfurled the drawstring and dumped the contents out in his hand. His breath caught at the simplistic beauty of the gift before him. It was a simple necklace; two bands of braided leather twined and curled to form one chain and on the end a gleaming silver pendant of a wolf.

“I thought it appropriate for the wild little dog that has grown into such a ferocious and deadly wolf.” Agron said, a hint of shyness as he awaited Nasir reaction.

“I believe I will forgive the wild little dog comment when it is followed by such praise, I would have you place it around my neck and see it remain there.” Nasir answered, he leaned forward and drew Agron into a quick kiss before handing over the necklace and turning his back expectantly.

Agron chuckled as he undid the clasp and brought it around Nasir neck clipping it into place. He leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on the slope where neck meets shoulder and was continuing his path around when he realized that Nasir had gone ridged in his arms.

Agron panicked, and he quickly moved in front of Nasir reaching out and grasping his arms. Nasir’s face was devoid of expression, this more than anything scared Agron.

Nasir had been thrown back violently when he had heard the snick of the clasp, he found himself back in the field he had so often visited in his dreams. But this time he had no need to chase the ever elusive older boy, instead he was standing right in front of him smiling.

_‘I have a gift for you Nasir.’ The voices seemed to flow on the breeze coming from a great distance. He stepped forward and Nasir finally saw what the boy had dangling from his hand. It was a necklace simply crafted with a small green gem hanging from the delicate gold strand. The boy stepped forward allowing it to fall over Nasir’s head and nestle into the little space of his collarbone. ‘There you are brother, it will keep you safe.’_

_Nasir can hear himself answering, ‘It is amazing, gratitude Emir…’_

_Emir…_

“Emir” the whispered name flowing from lips.

“Nasir, what is it?” Agron questioned, desperately trying to gain his lover’s attention.

Nasir finally looked up and noticed Agron, and there was only one thing he could think to say. “My brother’s name was Emir.”

The confusion faded from Agron’s face, the dawning understanding giving way to uncontrollable pleasure. He gave an aborted laugh before he was crashing forward knocking Nasir back into the bed kissing him with abandon. Between the two of them they couldn’t seem to decide whether they wished to laugh with the joy or share their delight through kiss. They end up with a mix of both and the sight was one not often seen in a camp of war.

But as always their happiness was short lived, Saxa had thrown back the flap to their tent announcing the advancement of the Romans. They had but a second to absorb these words before they were both reaching for hastily discarded clothes and adding armor to their attire. Just as they had grabbed their swords and were heading outside Agron seized Nasir’s arm and pulled him back, a desperate press of lips and then he rested his forehead against Nasir’s; his eyes attempting to pierce into Nasir’s very soul.

“I will see this news properly celebrated at battle’s end”

Nasir nodded, understanding the double meaning that Agron was attempting to convey.

They both immediately set out already moving into formation, Agron at the head of their faction, Nasir at his back, as it always should be. Just before the order to charge was given Nasir found himself surrounded by Syrians, Kalil at his side. He had enough time to grab his arm and meet his gaze.

“My brother’s name was Emir.”

The myriad of expression that crossed Kalil’s face were so varied that Nasir did not believed he had caught them all; though he thought he saw great happiness, satisfaction, and triumph. There was no time for any other words to be exchanged as the call to arms was given and Agron led the charge into the heat of battle[O1

* * *

 


	3. Chapter 3

The fire burns bright and hot, scorching Nasir’s face as he stands to close. The heat of the flames reminded him vividly of the change…the chaos that fire has brought to his life. It had swallowed his city in the wake of the Roman’s, it had branded his skin and sealed mortal wound, and now he stood before the pyre of a dear friend who they had not even been able to recover enough of to truly warrant a pyre. Nasir could feel the strong solid presence of Agron at his back, and the silent stoic company of Tahir, Laith, and Aaquil surrounding them.

No one had seen Kalil fall, it had been Aaquil who was able to identify the blade he had carried and the arm that had once clutched it. Nasir could not remember a time when grief was not his closest companion—ever present, always threating to swallow him whole. All that was holding him together now was the silent warmth of Agron’s presence.

It did not matter though as always he would push forward, and would avenge those lost with the spilling of Roman blood. This was not the only pyre that burned this night but as Nasir stared into the flames he felt acceptance. Fire it seem would always be the force that would bring change to his life. The boy Nasir was destroyed by the fire from his city, the slave Tiberius born from the ashes. Then once more Nasir was given new breath and reborn as a warrior when branded with fire on field of battle. He would no longer shy from its heat, but rather welcome it with open arms and rain it down upon the Romans.

***

Worry was Agron’s constant companion; their lives continuously dangling over a precipices, never knowing if this day would be their last. It had been six months since they took Sinuessa en Valle and the losses suffered from subsequent battles had made many question the cause.

Agorn gently runs his hand across the stark white bandages that run across his chest. He is almost completely healed, but it had taken a month to regain enough strength to be able to even grasp a sword.

He had been sent on a mission to the neighboring city to attempt to obtain desperately needed supplies. Spartacus had given him a few men, thinking they would attract less notice as a smaller faction. They had managed to infiltrate the city and gather what was needed but after this their good fortune ran out and they were set upon by Roman sentries.

Captured and thrown into prison Agron resigned himself to his fate, the heaviness of his grief at being unable to return to Nasir weighing him down.

They were to be crucified at dawn’s break.

Agron can still remember the screams of his brothers as they were crucified; Lugo and Nememtes nailed down first. He was the only one to survive; his life spared only to endure endless torture at the hands of Crassus and his men as they sought information on Spartacus and the rebel’s movements. Somehow they had figured out who Agron was and believed him far more valuable alive then dead.

He doesn’t remember much of his rescue. The past few days of his captivity and subsequent escape and recovery are nothing but a blank space in his mind. For the first month of his recuperation he had been useless when it came to battle, unable to even walk long distances without loss of breath. It had made him a hindrance as they had fled from Sinuessa, Crassus upon heel, and the cold and unforgiving climate slowing his healing as they had to set up tents upon mountains crest. It was only as they were able to escape Crassus’ reach and take command of a smaller city that he was truly able to heal and grow stronger. However he had begun to go mad with nothing to do but rest as others fought on. Spartacus had quickly recognized this and stepped in, giving Agron full control of the city; putting him in charge of the everyday duties, passing judgments on disputes (in Spartacus’ absence), and making sure that they remained well supplied.

One thing he could not complain about was that the duties required him to spend more time with Nasir as they coordinated the inner workings of their little city. It had helped the both of them to settle into a rhythm—to have a familiarity and purpose to share. Though it was particularly hard for Agron when Nasir would charge into battle and he could not follow.

He may have gone crazy at being unable to protect his lover except for the fact that Laith and Tahir had positioned themselves as bodyguards; following no one but Nasir. They had come to him before each battle offering quiet assurances that they would not stray from Nasir’s side and that he would be returned to him whole and hale. He was the only one besides Nasir that they would speak to in the camp.

Agron had also found himself with a shadow in the form of Aaquil; the man was constantly at his side when Nasir could not. Agron had a sneaking suspicion that this was Nasir subtle way of assuring his safety, but Agron was willing to allow it if it gave peace of mind. Aaquil not only protected him but also offered wise guidance in the resolution of the issues that came before Agron. He learned much from Aaquil on how to command justly, and when to let the cooler heads prevail. Duro would not have recognized him.

It had been a month and a half of this before the _medicus_ had cleared him to return to a light training regiment, and for other—pleasurable activities. The latter was immediately celebrated later that night, Nasir laying hands upon him as soon as he had returned to their room; the former was much harder. Surprisingly it was Crixus who had stepped forward. He had goaded Agron from bed running him through drills and exercises that rivalled Agron’s early days in the _ludus_ under the tutelage of Oenomaus. Working from the knowledge that had seen him returned to health in the _ludus_ Crixus pushed Agron hard. It was not long before Agron could feel himself returning to full strength once again.

 Even with Agron fully healed these past months their training sessions had continued. “We are to march at tomorrow’s rising sun.”

Agron spun around, startled at Crixus sudden appearance. “And where is it we march for?”

“Messina, Spartacus believes that this is where Crassus intends to make final stand.” Crixus answered as he pulled his sword from his sheath and readied himself to spar.

Agron stepped forward, his sword raised as they began to do battle.

“He is sure this time?” Agron gritted out as he avoided sword slashed toward his forearm. “He has thought this before, and it has cost us deeply.”

“He has received news from scouts in the south,” Crixus said, tucking into a roll as Agron went for his head. “They speak of approaching legions, with Crassus at the head.”

“I will rejoice at the death of the fucker,” Agron moved swiftly to the side Crixus sword grazing his armor. “Too long has he dogged our steps.”

“Agreed.” Crixus brought his sword up, meeting Agron with a thunderous clash. “And too many brothers lost as Spartacus attempts to outmaneuver the Roman dog.”

Agron huffed out a laugh as he disengaged, “for the second time I find myself in agreement with a fucking Gaul; the end must truly be near.”

Crixus forced a grim smile, and they fought on.

For almost an hour they moved against each other, Crixus pushing toward every weak spot he had seen the past months. Agron meeting him—stroke for stroke; it was as if he had never been injured. They sparred but a little longer, and when there seemed to be no end in sight Crixus called a halt.

“You have truly healed,” Crixus said with heaving breath. He walked over to the waterskins they had laid out, throwing one to Agron as he took in great gulps from the other.

“You believe we will truly see end to Crassus with coming battle?” Agron questioned, his expression solemn.

“I know not, this man has thwarted Spartacus at every turn.” A deep frown upon Crixus’ face.

“We have gone up against him twice now, and both times suffered heavy casualties,” Agron moved forward, his voice lowered in urgency.

“There is nothing for it but to wait for battle’s outcome.” Crixus answered, “Until then we must relish time we have, you with your boy and I with my woman.” Crixus answered, Agron watched silently as he passed; only now noticing that Naevia waited behind him cloaked in shadow.

Agron immediately made his way back to the villa where he and Nasir had claimed a room for their own. As had been the routine these past months since Kalil’s death Agron found Tahir sitting outside of the drawn curtains that led to Nasir and his’ rooms. He was swiftly carving away at a small block of wood, to the unobservant he appeared to be completely immersed in his work, but Agron knew better. The knife that he was now using to carve would easily find itself embedded in any who would dare to enter without permission.

As Agron stepped into view Tahir immediately stood, giving a slight nod in acknowledgement he retreated into his room further down the corridor. Agron had long since stopped trying to decipher why the Syrians had set themselves up as bodyguards, or why they refused to mingle among the other rebels. He simply accepted their presence and moved on.

Agron gently eased the curtains of their room back, slipping inside. Nasir had left a few of the candles burning. He was struck dumb as he finally spotted his lover. Nasir was huddled in the nest of blankets that was their bed, Agron thought he even saw his former coat among the pile. Nasir skin seemed to glow in the dim light, the small bands of gold giving an otherworldly sheen to his skin; the necklace Agron had gifted Nasir shined as a beacon from around his neck. As his eyes travelled upwards they were met by Nasir’s bleary gaze, a soft smile graced his lips.

“Crixus has finished thrashing you into the ground this night.” Nasir called out sleepily.

Agron was jolted from his reverie at teasing slight, “It was Crixus who found himself soundly beaten.”

Nasir sat up slightly on his elbow holding his hand out as he beckoned Agron to join him in bed.

Quickly shedding the most cumbersome of his armor, Agron brought a simple dagger to bed to be placed under pillow. He melted into Nasir warm embrace the weight of sleep laden arms settling him as he drew Nasir into his chest.

“Spartacus has ordered that we march for Messina tomorrow to meet Crassus upon field of battle.” Agron spoke softly, his nose inhaling the strong scent of his lover.

“You are worried?”

Agron sighed deeply, as he clutched Nasir ever tighter against his chest. “I would have Crassus fall. He has caused enough suffering and I will not witness another of our brother’s lost to a Roman sword.”

Nasir wiggled until he was lying face-to-face with Agron, “Then I would see concern laid to rest; for we will have victory, and see the ground soaked in Roman blood.”

Agron leaned forward, his forehead resting against Nasir’s, their noses brushing gently. “As long as we walk away from that battlefield tomorrow I will consider that true victory.”

Nasir grinned, leaning forward he pressed a firm kiss against Agron’s lips, “Leave concern, and we shall see time well spent in pursuit of more pleasurable ventures.” Nasir hand was trailing down Agron’s chest, the path a deliberate one. “Tomorrow we fight,” Agron gasp his hips snapping forward as Nasir hand reached its goal.

“But tonight is for us.” Nasir whispered forcefully before Agron captured his lips and pressed him back into their bed, determined to forget all but the touch and taste of his heart


	4. Chapter 4

 

 “Spartacus!”

Agron’s cry gave Spartacus enough time to turn around as he met blade with blade; Agron’s sword cleaving the Roman’s head from shoulders from behind. There were so many bodies surrounding them, both Romans and rebels, it was hard to even keep their footing in order to fight.

The battle had been long and bloody, they had the element of surprise when they had circled around behind Crassus’ army and attacked from the rear. Many of the Romans had broken from formation and attacked, the voices of their commanders orders drowned out by clash of steel.

Crixus had taken a majority of their forces, meaning to corner a great portion of the Romans, and begun to push them west toward the sea. Gannicus and Agron had remained with Spartacus to press advantage. However the sheer numbers of the Roman army were far too vast, too many of the rebels had fallen; victory looked to be a distant dream.

Agron’s eye flew to the left as he heard the distinct hiss of his lover, he found him surrounded on all sides by Laith, Aaquil, and Tahir. Their attacks were swift and viscious; the movements of the three Syrians so coordinated it was if they had been trained together from birth. Nasir had slipped from the protective circle they had formed and was engaging the enemy himself. Agron brought his sword up as another Roman attempted to attack from his side. He saw Nasir focus on him and watched as he began to fight his way over to him, his spear clearing a path as the Syrians followed close behind.

They all regrouped around Spartacus, and watched as their brothers fell before them.

“We must retreat.” Spartacus gasped out as he forced yet another Romans to his knees with a well-placed slash.

“We should move for the northern borders, retreat through the mountains.” Gannicus said, as he relieved a solider of his sword—arm included.

Spartacus nodded, “Agron, take Nasir and gather the wounded; head north, we will hold them off for as long as we are able.” Agron nodded.

As he and Nasir turned to carry out Spartacus’ orders the ground began to shake. The noise of the battle was drowned out as Spartacus and the others watched the approach of two separate armies. The first approaching from the south, lending reinforcement to Crasssus’ men and the other cutting off the rebel’s route of escape to the north. They had maneuvered the rebels into a deep valley, to the north and south there were clear plains of land, to the west was the sea, and to the east a high ridge that was not easily scaled. Spartacus could see as a line of men broke off from the reinforcements and moved to cut Crixus and his men off from the rest. Now it was they who found themselves divided.

“Fuck the gods! We are surrounded!” Agron shouted, his hand reaching out to draw Nasir to his side; Tahir, Laith, and Aaquil surrounding them.

“Jupiter’s cock, they have cut off escape!” Gannicus yelled, turning to Spartacus.

Spartacus looked around taking in the faces of all those who stood beside him: Gannicus, Agron, Nasir, Donar, and Saxa. There was nothing left to do, he met the gazes of each and saw reflected in them the same loyalty and determination as he had the night they had scaled Vesuvius.

“We may fall this day, but we will go to the afterlife bathed in the blood of Romans with the taste of freedom upon our lips!” Spartacus voice raised reaching out to all those who were able to hear. Spartacus sword thrust into the sky, the sun catching the edge as the rebels’ voices joined in, their screams louder than the roar of any arena in Rome, as they turned to face the army on all three fronts.

The Roman armies advanced; the rebels moving forward one more time to meet them head on. The brutality and death was an overwhelming sight as the warriors clashed on field of battle. Agron was never far from Nasir side, he knew that they would die this day and there was no other place he would rather be then fighting alongside his lover.

He spun around as he heard a violent cry only to watch as Saxa was struck down, the agonized scream of Gannicus as he cut the Roman soldier in two in vengeance. But Agron had to focus there was no time for grief, they would soon being joining Saxa in the afterlife.

 In his distraction he had missed the two soldiers creeping toward him; Tahir blocked their deadly swing with his shield and between the two of them they managed to bring the Roman dogs down. As Agron looked he knew it would not be much longer—they had lost so many men.

He moved toward Nasir, they would fight back to back and would leave this world as gladiators.

As Spartacus saw Crixus fighting his way back toward the others he heard the distinct whistle of arrows. He turned and watched as arrows tipped in fire sailed over his head embedding themselves in screaming Romans. He looked trying to discover their source and found yet another army lining the ridge to the eastern side. They carried a banner that Spartacus had never seen before, the soldiers were dark of skin, their armor glinting in the glare of the sun.

“Spartacus!” Agron called out as he attacked yet another advancing soldier. “Are they friend or foe?!”

Spartacus remained silent watching; then he saw as fire begin to roar on the edge of the eastern ridge. This was accompanied by the shriek of the wind and a great ball of flame landing among the outer edges of the valley to the north and south, which were packed three deep with Roman soldiers. They were coming from the eastern ridge, from boats moored on the coast.

“I know not, yet it seems we have gained another ally!” Spartacus yelled, he stood tall as he cried out, “Let us lend aid, and see the Republic brought to its knees!”

The rebels gathered force, their hearts swelling as they heard their leader’s battle cry, and with a new surge of life the rebels pushed headlong into the fray. Spartacus watched as through some unforeseen command the new army pressed forward as well; the men on horseback bearing down on the valley, the foot soldiers not far behind. He observed as they cut down every Roman in their path, he turned as he heard the explosion of the fire bombs as they rocked the coast; no longer was Crixus cut off. The ships off the coast had created a break in the line of soldier—Crixus moved even now to press advantage. Just then Spartacus was beset on all sides, there was no more time for questioning—he would have to wait until after to decipher this new riddle.

 

***

          Nasir stood next to Agron as they surveyed the once peaceful valley—now littered with bodies. He watched as Spartacus began making his way toward them, Marcus Crassus’ laid out behind him his head not far from his body, the vultures beginning to circle overhead.

          The foreign army had pulled back from the battleground regrouping on the eastern edge the ships now silent floating; the rebels had moved toward the western end of the valley. Though these men had fought valiantly and aided them greatly the rebels did not yet know the cost of such assistance.

          Crixus and Naevia joined them, Gannicus not far behind though his thoughts seemed far removed from the present. Spartacus sent Donar off with instructions to round up the wounded and to make sure those still able to fight were ready.

          “Do we know who they are?” Naevia questioned watching the armies’ movements closely.

          “They may have helped us but it would take but a few blows for them to destroy us.” Crixus answered as he took in the sight of their severely diminished force.

          Spartacus remained silent choosing simply to observe, Agron released his grip on Nasir as he came to Spartacus’ side. “Why give aid to us, they are not of this land,” Agron’s eyes glinting with the reflected light bouncing off their gold plated armor. “Nor do they seem to carry the mark of former slaves.”

          “It seems we shall soon have answer.” Spartacus said, as he motioned to the lone rider who broke from the pack and began to transverse the distance between. If the array of gold and adornments was any indication the rider seemed to carry a great deal of power and authority.

He rode slowly toward Spartacus and his men, his hand kept at his sides at all times, his scabbard empty of sword—he approached as messenger.

          Spartacus and the others readied themselves as he drew closer, when he was within walking distance he dismounted his horse to continue the journey. Nasir froze, a current of shock running through his body. He stepped past Spartacus his movements halted as Agron’s reached out and laid a heavy grasp on his arm.

          “Nasir—“Agron questioned.

          Nasir turned back his expression earnest, “It is Kalil.”

          At the softly spoken words the others turned and were now able to clearly see that it was indeed Kalil that approached them. Though he was much changed from the last time they had seen him; his hair newly shorn, his face cleanly shaven, and he still had both arms.

          Nasir slipped Agron’s grasp as he met Kalil with arm outstretched, “Nasir!” Kalil exclaimed as he clasped Nasir hand and then brought him into a tight hug.

          “Kalil. What has happened, I thought you gone from this world?”

          Before Kalil could answer Spartacus interjected. “Indeed there were many who mourned you passing,” his expression fierce. “It seems it was wasted effort.”

          Agron reached out drawing Nasir to his side, his expression one of deep hatred. Nasir resisted for a moment, his thoughts dominated by confusion, but he eventually let Agron draw him back.

          “Apologies that I was so rudely forced from your company, but there was not much time left, and I yet had a duty to fulfill.” Kalil solemnly stated his gazed fixed upon Nasir’s face.

          “And pray what duty was this?” Crixus angrily demanded.

          “And how are you able to command such a force?” Naevia questioned viciously.

          Spartacus waited allowing all to speak their mind before he once more took command, “It appears you have a tale of interest to all.”

          Kalil forced his attention from Nasir betrayed gaze and turned toward Spartacus, “It is true I do indeed have much that I must tell you, but my story is only half to a greater whole. I would request that you but wait until sun begins to set and I will meet you upon the shores of the sea with the one who has dispatched me with the utmost sacred responsibility?”

          “Are we but sent back to wait as you gather forces that would see us from this world?” Gannicus hoarsely questioned, though his heart was heavy he would not allow them to be forced into a trap.

          Kalil looked at him sadly, “No my friend, I but wish to give time for recovery from deep wounds. This army will do no harm to any other this night, their hatred for Rome runs deeper than you yet know.”

          Spartacus gazed intently, “We will await until appointed time to break words.”

          Kalil inclined his head and watched as the others began to walk away, he moved to speak with Nasir but was cut off as Agron stepped in front of him and led him away. Kalil watched as Nasir allowed himself to be moved he knew if Nasir truly wished to speak with him nothing Agron could say would have stopped him. Kalil met the gazes of Tahir and Aaquil as they silently helped some of the wounded rebels. They gave a slight inclination of their heads. Kalil responded in kind, and then swung himself back into the saddle. He set off to retrieve his master, there would be much revealed this night and the outcome carried an air of uncertainty.

***

            Their losses were great. Gannicus had returned to the battlefield to gather Saxa so as to see her to proper burial. Spartacus had set the other rebels to purpose in gathering the bodies of their fallen brothers, the wounded brought to newly erected tents along the coast to be tended.

         The setting of the sun was quickly upon them, Spartacus organizing the remaining men into defensive positions and setting Donar and a few others at the head. If something were to go wrong they would be ready. Nasir joined the others falling into step behind Spartacus, Agron at his side. Crixus and Naevia were walking stiffly their hand grasping their swords, Gannicus walked to the left of Spartacus his eyes betraying deep wound, his fingers white knuckled on the grip of his blade. 

 

Nasir watched as Kalil approached on horseback, another hooded figure riding alongside him. Spartacus and Crixus stepped forward, Kalil dismounted his horse as did the mysterious figure. 

"I hope you able to treat your wounded, if more aid is needed we have many healers among our number." Kalil rich voice carrying easily over the crashing of waves. "You have but to ask and they are yours."

Spartacus gaze was focused on the cloaked man as he answered, "Such a generous offer, I but wonder at how you came to command such great power and numbers. When last I laid eyes upon you, you were a newly freed slave."  As Kalil moved to answer Spartacus once more overrode him, “I would have all laid bare this night, will your friend not remove his hood so that we may have proper look?"

Kalil once more attempted speech, but a rich honeyed voice flowed from under the dark hood. “I would indeed have it so." As he spoke two dark hands adorned with a simple gold band and ring reached up and flicked the hood from it place. 

Nasir could not help but stare, had Chadara still be among their company she would have declared him to be of a form. He had rich, black hair that was plaited down his back, a circlet of gold transecting his brow and disappearing into the gathered hair. His features were gentle but there was a harshness in his eyes that belied a life of sorrows. As the man moved forward Nasir watched as Kalil stepped back, his head carrying a slight tilt of deference that Nasir recognized from his days as slave. 

"It seems you hold the advantage this night, not only in the numbers of your army but in the knowledge of my name." Spartacus answered mildly, though his body betrayed his suspicion as he too took in the sign of the man’s obvious wealth and rank. 

"I come to you my lord Spartacus, as a man who must repay a great debt." The man's voice carried a weight of such seriousness, "Though I do not think I will ever be able to fully repay this debt I must try." The man gave a slight bow toward Spartacus, though his gazed had found itself fixed upon Nasir. Agron too had noticed the unusual attention that was being lavished on his lover and moved to step between them. Nasir ignored this and instead chose to openly study the man in return, he was no longer the deferential slave and he would never back down again. 

"Fuck this man and his riddles" Crixus burst out violently as he was no longer able to remain idly in the shadows. “We ask but the simple question of a name and he gives answer to rival that of the Oracle of Delphi." Gannicus seemed to agree as he to nodded along with Crixus statement. 

As Nasir had finished his inspection of the stranger his gaze was drawn to a small delicate necklace that lay in the hollow of the man's neck; a deep green stone attached. He would have never noticed such a small thing had the dying sun not seen fit to reach out and caress delicate strand with bright embers. Nasir stilled as he looked closely, the man's eyes boring into him.

"I too agree if you cannot give fucking answer of even name then we no longer need hold audience.  Gannicus said, Spartacus remaining silent as he watched all. 

The memory clicked. 

The sun gave one last burst of light catching the green stone; an emerald, the jewel of their house

"Emir" Nasir breathed out, his heart clenching in his chest. 

A small smile spread across his face, "Too long has it been since I have laid eyes upon you brother," he breath pushing harshly past his lips. "I thought to never see you again Nasir, I am glad the gods have proven my beliefs false."

All was silent but a moment as Nasir stared in awe, a deep look of love and relief etched into the lines of Emir’s face.

“You know this man, Nasir?” Naevia questioned, as all watched the interaction of the two.

Agron was battling within himself, wishing to whisk Nasir far away from this man but also knowing that his beloved had been wishing desperately to see him once again.

“He stands as long lost brother,” Nasir quiet response was lifted by the wind and carried to the other’s ears.

He watched as Emir made a cautious step forward, his arms slightly raised. He allowed Nasir to take the final steps as he swept him up in a desperate embrace. Agron watched as the brother’s gripped one another tight, he could faintly hear whispered words pass between the two, thought it was in a language he did not know.

The group stood on watching, Kalil’s face shining with pride, before Spartacus spoke up, “It appears there is much to discuss this night and would be best to find far better accommodation in order to break proper word.”

Emir and Nasir separated as Spartacus had begun his speech, Emir inclined his head slightly, and “It would be much appreciated for the story is of length and better heard with the softening effects of wine.”

Spartacus nodded back, “Then let us remove ourselves to my tent.”

Emir and Kalil began to walking toward the encampment, at a glance from Spartacus Crixus and Ganicus split off temporarily to order the men to stand down; for now the threat had passed.

Nasir kept pace with Emir, unable to stray far from his side but he did reach back drawing Agron too him; his world felt as if it had been tipped on its axis and he needed to hold onto the only person that had ever made him feel real and solid.

Agron immediately came to Nasir side, though he wished to pull him away and hear his thoughts absent company he knew he must instead remain patient. They would have their time later and Agron thought that would be when he was most needed.


	5. Chapter 5

“I do not understand,”

          All were seated around a hastily put together table, save for a Emir who stood to the side a drink grasped in hand; Nasir features reflecting confusion as he addressed his brother.

          “Much happened the day our city fell, we were separated. I through one escape route from the city, you through another.” Emir attempted to explain, the others had remained silent so far.

          “Father wanted to make sure that we would both get out, so he sent only one guard with us and two of his most trusted advisors. He had rags place upon us so that we would look like mere commoners, our guards to be dressed the same. They moved us through the city streets, there was so much screaming as our people fled to the desert.” An expression of pain crossed Emir’s face as he continued to speak. “As our father ordered we were split up after we left the palace you were to take the route to the south and I was to be taken to the east; we were to meet in the house of our allies.”

          Emir went silent a hard expression crossing his face but he did nothing to hide the deep anguish as he looked at Nasir and continued his story. “I waited for you a fortnight, and then your guard, Aazim, reached us on horseback. He lived long enough to tell us that we had been betrayed. Ghunayn, the advisor who accompanied you, had stabbed the guard in the back and carried you away to be bartered with the Romans for safe passage and wealth beyond Syrian shores.”

          Nasir could hear the echoes of ear-piercing scream, see as a dagger slid itself between the ribs of a man. The dagger was gripped in a soft hand, heavily laden with jewels; he could feel as those soft hands reached for him. Lifted up high among the crowd, Nasir realized this was the beginning of his never-ending dream. 

          “Nasir,” the name was gently whispered into his ear. Nasir turned his head at the insistence of the gentle pressure upon his neck. When he opened his eyes he met the soft green gaze of his lover, he leaned into the touch for but a moment. His eyes met Agron’s one more time trying to convey all he was feeling all he was thinking, and then he pulled away straightening slightly. Agron relinquished his hold, though he continued to keep his body pressed tight to Nasir.

          Nasir turned once more to face his brother, he could not read his brother’s expression as he glanced between himself and Agron. “I remember now it was Ghunayn who carried me to the Roman ships. I did not see him again after that.”

          “How is it that you managed to find him over such a vast distance, and even greater span of time?” Naevia questioned, breaking the silence.

          Emir turned slightly to face her she met his gaze fiercely, she did not yet trust this man and she would not see Nasir hurt; she knew the others felt the same.

          Taking a sip from his wine Emir continued the story. “We thought you dead after that, gone forever to distant shores to join our mother and father who had also fallen when the city was lost.” Nasir looked up sharply at that, an expression of mourning passing over his face at the answer to a question he had not wanted to ask.

          “After word reached me of our father’s death I gathered what remained of our people and through the help of our allies acquired a territory far beyond Roman reach. As we continued to grow in our new home and prosper, I was finally able to fulfill a vow I made the day I found out about your abduction from our home—vengeance against the traitor Ghunayn. I sent for Kalil,” Emir nodded to Kalil as Nasir met his gaze. “He was the young guard who had escorted me from the city. I sent him into the very heart of our enemy, he was to travel for as far and as long as it took to uncover the traitor. If he yet drew breath, he would face the vengeance of my sword.” The venomous hate that poured from Emir was felt by all—felt and understood.

          “It was quest that spanned years—the weasel had managed to secrete himself deep within Roman territory; living in a villa surrounded by servants, his lands encompassing a vast expanse.” Emir eyes held an internal fire; as Agron looked he was reminded of the passion that always lurked beneath his lovers gaze.

          Emir looked to Kalil as he began his part of the tale, “It took over a fortnight to secure a man within villa walls, but all was made ready as my words traveled across the sea to bring news to my king.”

          “I left upon the fastest ship I was able to secure, and it took me two lunar cycles to reach the traitors villa.” Emir continued his story with a look of great satisfaction upon his face. “We attacked that night, and by the end we had gathered Ghunayn and his family and forced them to watch their home burn. I executed his wife and the pig begged for nothing but his own to be spared.” Emir fell silent as deep guilt began to bubble up into his gaze.

          Kalil seeing his leader’s reluctance picked up the thread of the story, “Through the cretin’s pleas for mercy he gave voice to the knowledge that you yet lived.” Kalil once more looked to Nasir. “He told of how you were sold into slavery, the price he paid for safe passage and position in the Republic.”

          Nasir subtly leaned back further into Agron seeking comfort, “We did not believe him and we moved to execute him but he cried out, said that we must find Aalia.”

Nasir gave a small gasp as he heard the long forgotten name, Agron slid his arm around Nasir waist pulling him more firmly against his chest: he could feel the slight tremble that was running through his lover.

          “I recognized the name. She was the slave who would sneak you sweet treats when we would go out to play.” Emir had a small wistful smile on his face, Nasir gave him a weak one in return. “So I sent the men out to where the slaves had gathered and searched for her; if there was any chance that you were alive…” Emir fell silent the emotion on his face spoke louder than any words.

          “She stepped forward when she realized who we were, and she told of how she found you on the same ship as her. How she cared for you as they sailed,” Nasir turned away at this tears glistening in his eyes as he remembered kind hands caring for him. “I still did not believe her until she gave me this.” Emir reached up to finger the small little green gem. “Do you remember I had it made for you?”

          Nasir met his brother’s gaze as he nodded, all others remained silent as they listened to the inmate exchange between brothers. Emir held Nasir’s gaze as he delivered the rest of the news, “Aalia died a fortnight later; she lived out the remainder of her days in much comfort, as if she was a queen. Ghunayn did not survive the night, his head mounted on a pike in front of the ruins of his beloved villa.”

          Nasir closed his eyes and was gladdened at the news that Aalia had found some peace at the end of her life. He remembered her vaguely, even now. How she would sing to him sweet lullabies to put him to sleep and how she would chase Emir and him from the kitchen only to sneak them a sweet meat a few hours later. He had not remembered that she had been with him when he sailed for Roman shores until Emir spoke her name and he wished deeply that he could have seen her once more before she had been taken to the afterlife.

          Kalil once more began his story at a simple nod from his leader, “Once we knew you yet lived we forced Ghunayn to speak of the last location he had seen you. He talked of the auction block where you had been sold from,” Kalil’s eyes cut slightly to Emir as he watched him tense up.

          “I could not remain from our people for long as we were still rebuilding from the brutality of the Roman attack.” Emir spoke quietly as he eyes asked silently for Nasir’s forgiveness. Nasir gave it with a slight inclination of his head.

“I left once more with the duty to find you and return you to rightful place among your people. I, however, did not travel alone this time.” Kalil nodded to the three Syrians who stood at the edges of the tent mimicking shadows as they stood as sentries.

          “We tracked your movements through old ledgers of slaves sold, and found that you had been bought by a man who lived on the other side of the republic. So we set out at once to retrieve you. However when we reached the villa we found it ransacked and the people of the neighboring city whispered of the warrior Spartacus and how he had attacked and killed all within. We despaired of having found you only to have you once more ripped from our arms. But then we heard tales of Spartacus and how he had freed the slaves of the Romans he had laid attack upon and we once more began to hope that you were yet among his number.”

          “So you set up a false convoy so that we would attack and you could join our ranks as you searched for me?” Nasir interrupted as so much became clear to him.

          Kalil nodded.

          “But why wait? Why not tell me who you were, who I was? Why not take me with you as my brother commanded?” Nasir questioned impatiently, he was tired of having so much uncertainty hanging over his head.

          “I was not yet sure that you were the one I sought, you did not even remember who you had been before Rome. I could not bring back false hope.” Kalil answered, “As to why I did not bring you with me when I realized it was truly you, it was because I knew you would not come. You had too much here; I could do nothing but return to brother with news of your life and allow him to decide what was to be done.”

          Emir stepped forward them, his focus now solely on Spartacus. “When I heard of your mission, and what you had already accomplished with such small numbers against the Roman pigs; I knew I must come and give aid.” Spartacus simply gazed back a thoughtful look upon his face. “My people have suffered grievously under the heel of Rome and I would see them pay most dearly for it.” Emir tipped his head, a sign of deference and respect.

          Spartacus finally stood, “We have heard all and would ask that you give us until the breaking of dawn to hear reply.”

          Emir smiled slightly as he gave a nod of acknowledgement, “I will await your answer and will meet you upon the shore at dawn to hear reply.”

          Spartacus simply nodded, the others stood and Emir could only watch as Nasir and Agron left quickly through the side of the tent.

***

          Agron was trying to keep pace with Nasir, and even with his long legs he was having trouble. Thankfully, he watched as Nasir disappeared into their tent. He quickly followed behind only to draw up short at the sight of his lover slightly bent over as if in pain. He reached out and drew him into his arms; Nasir went willingly, his nails digging deeply into Agron’s back.

          “So much forgotten—so much lost and now to have it all returned…” Nasir voice trailed off as he clung to Agron.

          “Indeed a blessing to be granted second chance with long lost brother.” Agorn moved them back so he could rest his forehead against Nasir as he spoke.

          “I have lost mother and father and regained brother, and Aalia…how could I have forgotten her?” The pain in Nasir’s voice was palpable, “she cared for me from birth—comforted me when I was to be sold as slave.”

          “You were but a child, Nasir; frightened and confused. It is only important that you remember her now.” Agron said as he sought to comfort his distraught lover. He could feel as the fight drained from him and with it his last reserve of strength. “Come I would see you take rest and after peaceful slumber see the good in what has happened.” He maneuvered Nasir toward their small pallet, laying him down gently and pulling the covers up tight.

          Nasir’s hand shot out and grasped Agron’s arm as he turned to leave, “Where do you go? I would have you join me.”

          Agron grasped his hand and soothingly replied, “I but go to fetch drink I will return in a moments time.”

          Nasir could feel his eyes drooping as he gave a small murmur of assent, his hand losing grip as his mind slipped into the veil of slumber.

          Agron gave him a fond look as his slid his hand back under the covers and set off quickly, to retrieve some water.

          He steps carried him swiftly back toward their tent, a jug of water swinging at his side; he thought of nothing else but to curl up beside his little man and sleep the sleep of the dead. However he found his path blocked by blackest shadow, and he looked up to meet Emir’s gaze as he moved in front of him. They simply stared at each other for a moment, before Emir finally spoke.

 “I would thank you for protecting beloved brother in my absence, I would have you know I do not mean to take him from you I wish only to regain what time we have lost.”

Agron smirked, “You could not take him if he did not allow it.”

“This is true, my brother is a great warrior as I always knew he would be,” Emir replied with a soft smile. “I have both Spartacus and you to thank for giving my brother aid when I could not. I will always be in your debt for this, and would proudly call you brother.” Emir reached out his hand.

At that statement Agron began to slowly relax, he regarded the hand for a moment before reaching out and firmly clasping his forearm.

“I but wish to remember the boy I knew and learn the man he has become.” Emir whispered softly, and Agron nodded as he gripped his arm tight.

“You have but to tell him that and hear reply from his own lips, know that I will not stand in the way as long as he wishes it to be so.”

“I thank you for that, and would leave you now to rest. Asking only one thing,” Agron waited expectantly to hear Emir’s request.

Emir gripped Agron’s arm even tighter, “I would ask that you continue to care for him, it is a rare thing that you and my brother have and I will not see it extinguished.”

“You need not worry, he is all that my heart beats for I would sooner rip it from chest than to lose him.” Agron’s words carried both a promise and a warning. Emir took it with good grace as he inclined his head to Agron.

Agron returned the gesture as they both continued in their opposites directions, as Agron passed he could see Kalil floating in the darkness. He gave a slight nod and returned to his and Nasir’s tent.

When he walked in Nasir was sleeping soundly, a quiet whistle escaping his lips. Agron simply stared and smiled for a moment before setting down the water jug; he walked around blowing out the few candles that had been lit. He then felt his way back toward their bed and slipped under the blankets; as Nasir felt the shift he turned over and immediately burrowed himself within Agron’s arms. Agron settled himself down and held Nasir tight. As he allowed sleep to claim him he could not help but think that all that had happened today would bring great fortune to them in the coming battle with Rome.

***

Nasir watched as the embers of Rome began to cool, the silence of the night descending over the once great city. It had taken a four day campaign to capture the great center of the Republic, but with the might of Rome spread throughout the world and the fall of Crassus and Pompey’s legions the city had fallen quickly.

          Much of the city had been destroyed by the catapults and the fire bombs which seemed to be Emir’s preferred weapon. Only now, almost three days since the city had surrendered, had the flames begun to die down. Many of the slaves within in the city, when they had beard the battle cry of Spartacus, had taken up arms against their _dominas_ and the Roman’s had found themselves fighting a battle on two fronts.

The rebels had entered the city in a parade of triumphant, the gates thrown open by the victorious slaves and it was over. A dream, they had never believed in their hearts would be truly realized, had come to pass. The celebrations had only just begun this past night, after the city had been secured and those in power stripped of all their possessions, they had not yet abated as the city rang with the voices of the conquerors. Spartacus has decreed that the celebrations would continue for three days and three nights and then they must face the realities of the everyday.

Nasir had joined in with the previous night’s festivities but now he sought the solitude of the villa that Agron and he had claimed for their own. He was plagued by visions of all those lost, and wished desperately that they could be here to witness all that had been accomplished. He thought of all that he had lost and gained in return; it seemed a lifetime ago that he had made attempt on Spartacus life and now he stood as most trusted among his men. As he watched the fires of the parties below roar with triumph he could feel a corresponding blaze within his breast and felt true contentment.

He was drawn from thoughts as a dark shadow fell across him.

“A fitting end for those who caused so much suffering, no?”

Nasir turned slightly, startled, he had expected Agron but found his brother in his place.

“Indeed, just as they destroyed our home through fire they have now watch all they loved consumed by the same flames.” He answered quietly as he returned to gazing out upon the city.

“I would see you returned to long forgotten homeland, yet I hear tale that you are bound for the north?” Emir questioned the ease his brother found in his company now a balm to his soul.

“We are for Agron’s home and whatever may remain of his family.” Nasir turned to face Emir as he responded. “I have found mine and now I would see Agron’s question given similar answer.”

Emir nodded as he simply observed the many changes that time had wrought upon his brother. In the many months since he had joined the rebel army he had taken all of the time he could to spend with Nasir attempting to regain lost time. The many demands laid upon him as leader of his own army had severely depleted his free time. But Nasir had also sought him out and they had spent many a night simply reliving old remembrances. Emir filling in the empty spaces of Nasir’s memory and both he and Nasir spoke of what had happened to them in the intervening years of their separation. They had grown closer over time and Nasir seemed far more at ease in his presence, but it was not as it once was and Emir knew only time would give way to change.

          “Then I would wish you good fortune on your journey and would make request that if you will not come to our home that I may then come to yours.”

Nasir answered in earnest, “You are of course always welcome into my home brother and I may one day visit the land of my birth. I choose not to only now because I have many of the answer I have sought and Agron holds nothing but questions.” Emir’s body relaxed as he heard the truth in his brother’s words, he had found Nasir was much harder to read than he once was as a young boy.

“Then I will hold you to that, and await the day when we may once again explore the land of our kingdom.” Nasir gave an answering smile as he reached out and pulled his brother into a tight embrace.

“Will you then return and oust the Romans who yet sit upon your throne?” A deep voice came from the doorway and the two brothers pulled apart.

Nasir’s smile widened as he realized that Agron had finally been able to join him, he walked forward to receive a quick kiss.

“As soon as my men have been given proper rest we will set out for the coast and make our way back to retake the kingdom we lost so long ago.” Emir said as he watched the gentle interaction between the two with a proud gaze.

Emir had been leery of Agron when he had first realized all that he had meant to Nasir. He had questioned Kalil incessantly about his character and all that he knew of him. He wished to know that his brother was well and truly loved. He would not see him hurt by anyone ever again and he could begin with the one who was closet to his heart.  There had not been one instance where he had begun to trust Agron, rather it was a slow build up as he watched not only how he treated Nasir but also how he treat those around him. He saw the deep devotion he gave to Spartacus, the fair and just way he dealt with those who were weaker than he and, of course, the loving way that he handled Nasir. He eventually came to truly respect Agron and accept him as Nasir’s chosen.

“And you will set out for the north soon?”

Agron nodded, “As soon as Spartacus has seen all within the city settled and see no other threat lurking upon the horizon we will set out for the Rhine.”

“Then I will see you as much as possible in remaining days and when we must finally part I will know, this time, that it will not be forever.” Emir addressed Nasir once more as he drew him into another embrace.

“I will see you again brother.” Nasir answered as he gave Emir a hard squeeze and then stepped back into Agron’s warm embrace.

Emir stepped forward and held his hand out, Agron grasped his forearm and Emir held fast. “I charge you to see him well protected and when next we meet I would find him whole and hale.” He held a fierce expression on his face as he stared firmly into Agron’s gaze.

Agron usually would take offense to such but he too had also learned much in the passing months of Emir and his fierce protection of a brother he believed forever lost. He knew that he would act the same if Duro yet lived.

“I will see it done, you have no need to fear.” He grasped Emir’s arm just as fiercely.

Emir’s face broke out into a wide smile and he pulled Agron into a quick embrace, “Then I wish you good fortune on your journey to find your family, brother.” Agron gave a short nod and stepped aside so that Emir could pass.

They were silent for a moment simply basking in the quiet.

Nasir was the first to break the silence, “You have broken words with Spartacus in preparation for journey ahead?”

“I have indeed, if all is quiet we will leave in a fortnight’s time.” Agron turned to face Nasir, drawing him close.

“Never did I think we would one day stand here, victorious over Rome.” Nasir admitted quietly.

Agron cupped his cheek gently forcing him chin up as he met Nasir’s gaze lovingly. “But we have made it my love and we now have laid out before us a life of freedom and choice. And I choose you.”

A smile spread across Nasir’s features as he gave an answer he had once thought would forever be denied him. “I choose you.” Agron grinned wildly as he leaned forward and laid claimed to Nasir’s lips; their kiss deep and full.

The flame between them burned hot and bright; the flame of their passion and love stronger than any mortal fire.

**Author's Note:**

> Also if there is any interest I may write a Epilogue and/or some "deleted scenes". Just let me know if you guys would be interested.


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